17
" His dark blue shirt was plastered to his chest, covered with werewolf goop and tears. "Now we both need a bath," I said.
"That can be arranged."
"Please, Jean-Claude, no sexual innuendo until after I'm clean."
"Of course, MA PETITE. It was crude of me tonight. My apologies."
I stared at him. He was being far too nice. Jean-Claude was a lot of things, but nice wasn't one of them.
"If you're up to something, I don't want to know about it. I can't handle any deep, dark plots tonight, okay?"
He smiled and gave a low, sweeping bow, never taking his eyes off me. The way you bow on the judo mat when you're afraid the person may pound you if you look away.
I shook my head. He WAS up to something. Nice to know that not everyone had suddenly become something else. One thing I could always depend on what Jean-Claude. Pain in the ass that he was, he always seemed to be there. Dependable in his own twisted way. Jean-Claude dependable? I must have been more tired than I thought. "
― Laurell K. Hamilton , The Killing Dance (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #6)
18
" I have lived for over three hundred years. In that time, the ideal of beauty has changed many times. Large breasts, small, thin, curved, tall, short, they have all been the height of beauty at one time or another. But in all that time, ma petite, I have never desired anyone the way I desire you."
- Jean-Claude "
― Laurell K. Hamilton , The Killing Dance (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #6)